Odd Meetings
During an unusually clear summer night, the angel Saraj walks out in the forest, despite her intention to stay in the garden. At the same time the demon Aram leaves the hunting grounds of his clan to still a sudden restlessness, without knowing that a younger demon is following him. By coincidence they meet in a clearing, and once they’ve gotten past the initial shock they develop a tottering friendship. Saraj dances and Aram plays on a flute he happened to bring along, while Kedma, the young demon, watches in jealousy. She looks up to Aram and doesn’t want to harm him, but angels are dangerous and she is afraid that Saraj will turn Aram against the demon community. She is aware of what the older demon ignores; that the demons once tried to extinguish the angels to protect themselves from their effect. While the two in the clearing shares a lunch pack of dried fruit and meat Kedma grieves over what to do. She can’t confront the older demon, and it would be her word against his if she told anyone. At sunrise the odd couple promises to meet again already the following night. Characters *Aram - placid demon *Saraj - friendly vivid *Kedma - jealous demon Fairy tale version A young demon walks through an endless forest, in a world long forgotten if ever known. In the light of a full moon and stars so bright in their shine that their equals have never been seen, he wanders beyond deciduous trees, beyond coniferous trees, beyond rivers and beyond fields. Driven by a feeling, a longing for he doesn’t know what, he walks because he can’t be still in the night. All he carries is all he owns. Knife and clothes, dried fruits and meat, a handful of stolen jewelry and a flute made to pass time. ---- A maiden descended from the skies, as radiant as her ancestors and with a gait just as genial, and yet lively, as the queen of dryads. With white wings she walks in a course chosen by chance, dressed in slumber wear and without shoes. Incapable to stay indoors when the lights of the sky are singing – albeit low to her who walks the ground – she goes to wander in the oldest of forests. She has no reason to follow this path in this night, other than that she has no reason to go in any other direction. When she reaches a clearing in the deep woods she looks up and listens. Surely the song of the heavens is stronger here? Light as a feather, no – a snowflake, she whirls around so that hair and nightdress billows around her body. ---- The demon we followed before, where is he now? He carefully walks on unknown ground, and wonders to himself what is driving him to go this way. He is far from his preserve, far from the familiar sounds of quarrel, fuss and politics in the bushes. In the air lingers smells from flowers not unknown, but unusual to him. Isn’t that a fairy light ahead? Cautiously he approaches, unwilling to run into something he does not want to meet this magical night, he almost crawls in the under wood. Fairies and demons do not go along well, not only because of their differences, but rather because they rival for the same pray. What meets his eye is not a fairy, neither a nymph nor dryad. What he sees is what none of his species have previously seen, and seconds turn to minutes. In the glade ahead of him glide a being so frail and nearly hyalite in its glow that it could have been a dream, if demons had had dreams like that. The light radiating from its skin and white wings, nearly painful for the sensible sight of a night hunter, made it almost translucent. Finally he shakes his head, fighting off the fog in his mind and reaches for his packing – something’s got to be done. ---- Below the bare feet the moss is soft, but moist and cold, despite the warm night air. Still she dances, without rules or patterns. The night lasts not forever, but long enough to enjoy each moment. The maiden in the clear night suddenly stops her steps when she finds that another voice – closer – have turned up and drowns the song of the skies. She looks around, unexpectedly frightened by the shadows below the trees. Is there someone here? She calls, equally afraid of the possible answer as of the silence. A movement leads her attention to a shrubbery, from which a man holding a hand-made flute comes out. She spots the details that distinguishes his kind; hands that ends in claws, wide shoulders on an otherwise thin body, eyes that shines yellow in the night and – of course – the long horns that comes up from the hairline. A demon. ---- The demon, our friend from before, slowly straightens every limb until he stands upright – and bows. It is a gesture rarely seen. He apologizes, for the first time in his life ashamed, for frightening her and tells his name. He begs her to let him play while she dances. The young woman gives her own name, and accepts his offer. Demons are not to be trusted, but it would be against her nature to reject someone’s company because of their species. They stay in the clearing all night, unconcerned about time. He plays, and she dances. In the small hours of the morning he takes out the food (“No meat for me, but a piece of fruit?”, “As you please, more for me.”) and little by little they forget how new their friendship is. ---- When so the sun rises it is with hesitance they say their farewells. Her family is without doubt worried and his clan would be troublesome if he stayed away too long. But certainly they’ll meet next night? Of course, but come dressed then! To hear that from a demon, is that not odd? And if it rains? Would it make any difference? No. Their version It is odd, how things can get out of claw sometimes. Aram was pretty much almost sure that Saraj had to be some kind of angel. That would explain the wings and the glowing skin. And she had refused the meat, even though it was dried. The only thing that didn’t fit in was that angels shouldn’t be here any longer. And angels don’t speak, they sing. Saraj on the other side spoke a lot. ”Thank you for the fruit.” ”N’ probl’m.” “So where do you come from? Are you usually around here? Do you have a family?" Aram kept chewing on the dried meat while he thought over the question. Then he pointed out at the woods. “That direction. No. Sort of. ”How do you mean ’sort of’? Isn’t it your real family?” “Lives inna clan.” “Have you ever uttered a whole sentence?” “Don’t I?” --- Saraj smiled. Even though she didn’t understand Aram she enjoyed his company. He didn’t say much, and his voice made her think of sandpapers or a severe cold, but it was a warmth around him. “So why did you come here?” For a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t answer the question. He sat silent and chewed on his meat, swallowed and looked up at the treetops. ---- Why had he come here? He didn’t know. He had nothing here to do. No reason to go here. He had never been here before and wasn’t the least curious. Still he had started to walk as soon as the night fell. He hadn’t bothered telling anyone that he disappeared, and hadn’t brought anything except some trinkets, food, the clothes he wore and a pretty useless knife. Not that he owned anything more, but it wouldn’t have been unreasonable to steal someone’s sword if he was going to unfamiliar areas. Then he had seen her, Saraj, when she danced in the clearing. Her feet barely touched the ground, hair flowing around her and the nightdress– “Why’re you walkin’ ‘round inna nightdress?” “What? Oh, well I hadn’t thought I would go further than the garden, but then I continued out in the forest on a whim and it is after all a nice night…” Aram gave up. It would soon be dawn, so he took the moment to take a good look at the supposed angel now, before he sun would burn out his vision. “Aram, will you come tomorrow night? We have to see each other again!” “Have to?” He smiled. ”O’ course, but come dressed then!” “To hear that from a demon isn’t that too odd?” “And if it rains?” “Would it matter?” “No.” The sun rose and to the demon the world turned pale with washed out spots of colour. Reaching out, his hand found hers. Witness version Kedma huddles up in the leafage, unwilling to believe what her eyes tried to tell her. To dare – to actually think that he dares do this to me! ''She can only barely stop herself from growling. The worthless idiot! What is he thinking with!? She frowned, obviously not the head on his shoulders, that much she understood. For several hours had she followed him, quietly, carefully and on a distance. Aram would have told her if he wanted her to come along, so she had been content with merely following his scent through the woods. As usual. How many times had she not stalked him, walked so far behind that she couldn’t see him, but close enough for his smell to linger like a cover in the air ''and this is what he does to her? She clenches her teeth, and stares past the leaves again. A demon from one of the most respected families in the clan sits there completely unbothered and shares a meal with one of them, the enemy, with an angel. Why did he think they had tried to kill off the winged varmints to begin with? For the fun of it? It was beyond her head, how he can sit there in the clearing so insouciant and entertain that… that… that brainless weak little wimp with his music. How he can lower himself to talk to her, smile to her, when he could afford to ignore demons of honourable descent. She can’t stand it. Can’t stand seeing such a goose sit there with Aram’s coat as if they had known each other for decades. Kedma bites her lip until the blood runs down her chin. This would end badly. Even if she didn’t say anything…. Even if no one found out of his treason… It wouldn’t work. The little bitch would get into his consciousness; twist his thoughts, his moral, all of his person. She would turn him against the clan! Suddenly he leaned back and looked right into the foliage where she sat. Kedma quickly licked up the blood, but didn’t dare move otherwise. Had he seen her? No, it didn’t seem so. What should she do? What could she do? Confront Aram? Sure, all that would lead to was her own death. Run home ahead of him and tell someone? With a chill she realized, that it would be her word against his. A low-on-the-ledge brat against and older demon with contacts higher up, and he would most likely go home the same way he came. He would ken her smell, know that she had been here. Panic seized her, as the two in the clearing promised to see each other again. 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